


since we were eighteen

by delta_trevino



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Iwaizumi's just really in love and so is Oikawa, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delta_trevino/pseuds/delta_trevino
Summary: “Huh?” Iwaizumi feels like he’s missing half of the conversation.Oikawa peels back his fingers from his chest, and then Iwaizumi’s chest constricts. Shit.He found the rings.Or, a quite fluffy engagement fic.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 14
Kudos: 177





	since we were eighteen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frenchibi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchibi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Caregiver](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13364517) by [Frenchibi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchibi/pseuds/Frenchibi). 



> scales of intensity: 
> 
> fluff: 9/10  
> angst: 0/10  
> lemon: 0/10
> 
> thank you and enjoy!

“Hajime,” Oikawa calls from down the hallway, his voice shaking. 

Iwaizumi looks up from gathering their old mugs on the coffee table. It’s Saturday morning, the allotted time for them to clean their apartment. Iwaizumi established one after Oikawa’s laundry piles became taller than his patience and their two plants kept dancing with death.

“Yeah?” His boyfriend is in their bedroom right now, supposedly dusting. 

“Hajime,” Oikawa repeats. “Come here.” 

The floor creaks as Iwaizumi heaves himself over, dropping the cups on the counter already covered in breakfast dishes—he’ll have to do those later—and then down the hallway. 

There’s a collection of papers, hung up with green tape because their landlord is against nails in the wall. Oikawa’s monthly practice schedule, birthday cards from their families, a pad of tear-off paper they use to write grocery lists and reminders that decorate the doorway. Pictures litter the hallway; Seijoh after their first practice game in second-year, Oikawa and Takeru at the carnival, Makki and Mattsun’s hideous but endearing faces from selfies they stole Iwaizumi’s phone to take. Various other ones attached to memories Iwaizumi particularly likes. 

It’s partly cloudy today, sun fading over their blue dresser and bookshelf, when Iwaizumi enters their bedroom. Oikawa’s hands are clenched against his chest, eyes blown wide. He’s staring at Iwaizumi with the usual affection, of course, on top of shock and hope. The bedsheets are crinkling from where Oikawa perched on the edge of them, in his huge, faded out band t-shirt and black shorts.

“What.” If this is something about how he folds his socks wrong again or Oikawa’s just realized they need to go to see a movie right now or else he’ll die, Iwaizumi’s going to walk out. 

“Are you, are you sure?” Oikawa’s fingers tighten around whatever he’s holding in his hands against his chest and his face looks like he just threw himself off a cliff. 

“Huh?” Iwaizumi feels like he’s missing half of the conversation. 

Oikawa peels back his fingers from his chest, and then Iwaizumi’s chest constricts. _Shit._

He found the rings. 

Iwaizumi bought them about a month ago after seeing Oikawa laugh at such a stupid joke to the point of tears. Iwaizumi had known for a fact that was going to be his future. It always had been, the rings were just another step towards the future they would take together.

He had been waiting for an opportunity, or a second when Oikawa wouldn’t be suspicious. If Iwaizumi asked him to go to a luxurious restaurant or took him somewhere grand, Oikawa would know. He was a little too smart.

Oikawa’s clothes were in the bottom drawers, and he only stole hoodies from the third-down drawer, so Iwaizumi had hidden the rings in the back of the top of their dresser. Behind their rain jackets that were out of season and in a mitten.

But now, Oikawa’s sitting in front of him, fingers cradling the little black box and looking at Iwaizumi with so much emotion on his face. 

There’s no time to wait, no time to rethink his speech or do anything. The rings and the future are staring at them. Iwaizumi’s heart is thrashing, and his mind is buzzing, but his mouth isn’t working. 

“Are you—” Oikawa tries again, “Is this—what...” He’s torn in between being lost, and jarred, and astounded. But above all, he looks hopeful. He’s looking hopefully at Iwaizumi, at the box, at them. “Are you sure?” 

Iwaizumi’s reflexes kick in, his muscle memory, and he has to restrain himself from chopping Oikawa over the head. 

“Idiot. Of course I am,” Iwaizumi says instead. _Of course I want to spend forever with you._

Oikawa’s mouth parts and he takes a shaky breath. He’s clutching the box like someone‘s going to take it away, and staring at Iwaizumi like he’s going to disappear. 

Iwaizumi knows Oikawa is an old-school romantic. He’s a sucker for dancing in the rain, the handwritten notes Iwaizumi leaves when he’s going to be late, gestures on Valentine’s day, sharing mundane little things, like a mug of tea and sweets. The tradition of kissing every day before they leave each other is his doing, and he’s the reason Iwaizumi’s hands feel empty when they aren’t intertwined with his. 

Iwaizumi knows Oikawa would love a huge gesture, something in front of a foreign sunset, or the top of a Ferris wheel, or a grand confession with candles and musicians, but there’s no time now.

He grasps at what he remembers of his speech, and just looks at Oikawa. That’s enough. It’s always been about him, anyway. 

“Here.” Iwaizumi leans forwards. He pries the box from Oikawa’s grip, who’s just watching him. “Let me.”

One of his knees barely hits the wooden floor before Oikawa throws himself at Iwaizumi, arms flung around his neck and chest heaving. 

“Oh, Hajime, yes,” Oikawa rushes out, burying his face in Iwaizumi’s shoulder. His voice is loaded with emotion and promise. “Yes, yes, yes—”

“Tooru.” Iwaizumi pulls back from him. Oikawa’s nose is red and there are tears streaking down his cheeks even though Iwaizumi hasn’t said anything. Iwaizumi doesn’t resist the urge to kiss the tears away. Oikawa sniffles. 

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi tries again. He smiles at his boyfriend, who hiccups. They’re sitting on the uncomfortable wood floor, entangled. “Oikawa Tooru.” 

And then there are two lips on his, salty and so soft, kissing him tenderly and pure adoration. Oikawa’s trembling in his arms, hands wobbly in his hair and tears still falling. 

“Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi thumbs away the tears. “Let me do it properly.” He clears his throat because there’s a lump in it, there are a million things to say and really, all he wants is Oikawa. All he wants is Oikawa to stay, to be his future, to be his. That’s all.

Iwaizumi retracts his arms from behind Oikawa since he had to catch him, pulling the box back around and smiles again. Down at Oikawa, with red eyes and a fire underneath that. 

“Oikawa Tooru.” 

Oikawa sniffles once. He swipes at his tears, waiting. His cheeks are damp with tears, his nose is blotchy and there’s eye sand in his right eye. The mop on top of his head is messy and even in ripped old clothes, he’s gorgeous. _He’s so pretty._

Maybe it’s because Iwaizumi has seen him at his worst, and his best, with his unfailing determination to a fault, and circus acts Iwaizumi is always pulled into. Maybe, it’s just that Oikawa is pretty and that’s how the universe said it should be. Or, maybe it’s because Iwaizumi loves Oikawa. Who knows.

“You’re kind of pretty,” Iwaizumi ends up saying. 

Oikawa lets out a laugh. But it’s breathless. A finger jabs Iwaizumi in the shoulder. “How shallow, Iwa-chan.” 

“Pretty stupid,” Iwaizumi amends, only to see Oikawa shake his head and poke him again. 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa complains. Now he’s not crying, he’s grinning and it hurts Iwaizumi, he’s aching at how much he loves Oikawa.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says. 

“That’s the sixth time you’ve had to restart.” Oikawa grins. 

“Shut up. You try it.” 

“Okay.” Oikawa coughs once. “Iwaizumi Hajime, I’m in love with you and want to spend forever with you, please marry me.” There’s a teasing lit under Oikawa’s words, but he’s looking up fragilely up at Iwaizumi, hands still warped around him. 

“Of course.” Iwaizumi kisses him once. Oikawa breathes in sharply, like he didn’t think that would work. “Of course.” 

Oikawa clenches his jaw, eyes searching Iwaizumi’s face.

“Oikawa Tooru.” Iwaizumi’s forehead is against Oikawa’s, and he presses a finger to Oikawa’s lips when his boyfriend opens his mouth again. 

“I’ve been in love with you since we were eighteen. Best friends since before we knew how to count years.”

Iwaizumi knows what he wants to say. 

“Do you remember, you might not, the day when you, me, Makki and Mattsun went up to the roof above the music room during lunch?”

Oikawa tilts his head in confusion. 

“It was chilly and you rubbed it in our faces that you were the only one with your blazer that day. It was, I think it was mid-September. You and Mattsun thought it would be a genius idea to climb up about seven flights of stairs to see the entire campus of Seijoh.”

Makki and Iwaizumi had followed the two with reluctance, grumbling about how they’d get suspended and then couldn’t play volleyball. 

“When I climbed over the last stair, and you turned around and badly insulted me, that’s when I felt myself falling. I remember, your hair was covering half your face and the sun was barely out, the wind was aggressive and I was in the middle of thinking it had been such a bad idea to go up there. Then there was a little click somewhere in the universe, and I knew I was going to love you. I probably loved you before then, and will well after, but then I knew I was in trouble.” 

Iwaizumi uses his fingers to brush some hair out of Oikawa’s eyes. 

“And then I fell in love even more when you taught Takeru how to tie his shoes, when you woke me up for that meteor shower in June, when you attempted pancakes and burnt them all, when you suggested with such confidence we could go long-distance, when you got a better phone plan just for that, when you set all those tosses on the national court. So many times. And now, when you insist on movie nights, and sing in the morning, when you flop into my arms after you’re done your work, especially when you smile.” 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathes out. Iwaizumi knows he’s rambling, he’s ranting to Oikawa but it’s true, it’s all true. 

“There wasn't a movement when I decided I was going to spend my life with you. Marry you. Maybe I always knew it. I mean, I’m well aware there are a million other people who’d also love you and I’m so lucky to have you, but I don’t really see myself in the future without you. About a month ago, when you were laughing at that stupid table joke, fuck, I love you so much Tooru, it’s probably bad—” 

Iwaizumi can feel himself falling apart. He swallows thickly and tries to tame the tears that are threatening him.

“But I just—I knew that was it, that was what I wanted, that was everything. You’re everything.” 

Oikawa’s gripping Iwaizumi’s back hard, hands fisted in his shirt. Iwaizumi is vaguely aware he should be on one knee in front of Oikawa instead of clutching him on the ground but he’s holding Oikawa. Holding Oikawa is never wrong.

“That’s not fair,” Oikawa mumbles. 

“Please,” Iwaizumi’s voice breaks. “I want to make you happy. I want to see you get grey hairs. I want to be your best friend and your lover forever. I want the highs and the lows, the good and the bad with you. I want forever with you.” 

Oikawa’s already nodding, whispering _yes, yes._

“All the “I want”s are making it sound selfish, and maybe this is, but please, please, will you spend your life with me?” 

Iwaizumi opens the box, the gold rings in front of Oikawa. 

“Will you marry me, Tooru?” 

“Yesyesyesyesyes,” Oikawa’s saying, more tears on his face and his lips trembling. “Yes, of course, Hajime, yes, a million hundred times yes—” Oikawa chokes. 

Only when Oikawa’s fingers are brushing his face does Iwaizumi realize he’s crying too. Through blurry eyes he takes one of the rings out of the box and Oikawa’s breath hitches. 

“Can I?” Iwaizumi asks, taking Oikawa’s hand. Oikawa sniffles. 

“Of course,” he breathes. 

Iwaizumi prays the size is right. He spent a while debating, thinking of how Oikawa’s hands fit in his and the design was something he wrestled over for weeks. It’s simpler than planned, just two bands of gold with wavy grooves crossing and recrossing over each other. Like their lives. 

His hands fumble with the ring and Iwaizumi almost drops it. 

“Clumsy,” Oikawa says without malice, eyes glued on the ring. 

The ring slides over Oikawa’s fourth finger comfortably to Iwaizumi’s relief. Oikawa exhales. He’s staring at the ring, transfixed, and Iwaizumi is staring at him. Eyelids puffy and overall a mess, Oikawa is still here. He’s here, and he is wearing a ring Iwaizumi got him. How insane.

“Iwa-chan.” Oikawa takes the box from Iwaizumi. “Let me,” he breathes as he holds Iwaizumi’s hand, calluses brushing and fingers connected, as they should be. “Please.” 

Iwaizumi nods. Of course he does. The metal is chilly but it fits on Iwaizumi’s ring finger perfectly. 

And now they’re matching. Two gold bands, two promises, two people for one future. 

“Hey,” Oikawa says, a beam on his face. “Iwa-chan.” 

“Yeah?” 

Oikawa leans forwards to kiss him. Their hands clasp together, Oikawa’s band against his hand and it’s everything. This is everything. 

“I love you,” Oikawa whispers slowly when they pull back. “I love you so much.”

Iwaizumi’s throat is dry. He nods once. “I love you too, I love you so much Tooru.” 

Then Oikawa’s kissing him again, with so much love it makes him dizzy. With the same kisses from high school and university, the ones after volleyball practice and right before he left their apartment. The same kisses that never fail to make his heart stutter and remind him just how lucky he is to be with Oikawa, and be kissed by him. 

The sun falls on them, warm and slathering the floor in colour. Oikawa looks radiant in the sun. The gold band stands out. The gold band that matches the one on his own finger. Surreal. 

“Wait, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi questions. “How’d you find those?” 

Oikawa grins, eyes so bright and lips puffy. “I was dusting the top of the dresser and the mitten fell down.” 

Iwaizumi sighs. “I was planning on doing something bigger, or less impromptu at least—”

Oikawa hugs him tight. “No, this is good.” Arms are wrapped around him, Oikawa pressed into Iwaizumi with joy, his head buried in Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “This is perfect.” 

Oikawa’s right. It is good. It didn’t go as planned, but that’s okay. They’re engaged, which is the most important thing. Or rather, they’ll be together. 

“Y’know, Iwa-chan, now we have a wedding to plan,” Oikawa mentions with mischievousness. “I’m thinking carnations for the table centerpieces and a chocolate fountain, two actually, one small for the kids and one tall one for us.” Oikawa mulls. “What do you think?” 

“Sure,” Iwaizumi agrees easily, watching Oikawa’s eyes widen. If Oikawa wanted 500 people, or 10, as long as the two of them were there it would be what he wanted. 

“Really?” Oikawa’s voice is quiet now. 

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi kisses the top of his forehead. 

Oikawa goes quiet. Another kiss on his forehead.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa runs his thumb over Iwaizumi’s engagement ring. It’s comforting. “Iwa-chan’s my fiancée.” 

“Mhmm.” Iwaizumi strokes his hair, realizing Oikawa’s going through the same thing, the same groundbreaking revelation they’re getting married to each other. 

“Iwa-chan proposed. Iwa-chan wants to marry me.” Oikawa sounds like he can’t believe it. 

“That’s the idea, Tooru, ” Iwaizumi laughs a little when Oikawa still looks incredulous. 

“You do?”

Iwaizumi kisses him again. Softly, with utmost care and yes, yes, Iwaizumi is so fucking in love with him. 

“Of course I do.”

And it’s no different, two months later, when they walk down the aisle and say their vows, ready for the future together. 

**Author's Note:**

> i was writing lots of angst and wanted a break so here you go. 
> 
> also everyone go read Frenchibi's fics, they're literally a god visiting us mortals. thank you for letting me gift this to you :)
> 
> props to my sister for beta reading. 
> 
> happy holidays everyone! i hope y'all get lots of ramen and all your fics get a new chapter or are finished and you find the love of your life, or a hamster, or a really good edit transition. 
> 
> heaps of love! delta.


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